Alarmed
by VolceVoice
Summary: My take on Kensi's entrance in "Search and Destroy." Which member of the team is keeping his head down? Rated T because this is my first story and I'm not sure!


**I've been lurking on this site for nearly a year now, and I finally drummed up the courage to post a story. **

**During Kensi's entrance in "Search and Destroy," I noticed that one member of the team had two closeups and his expression was interesting. He also seemed to take special, if brief, interest in her in the next episode.**

**Someone else did a great take on this scene, but I saw it just a little differently. **

**I hope it works!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or any part of CBS. **

***************

"How did it go, dearie?"

"It went well. We gathered very important intel." Kensi avoided Nate's look of interest, Callen's grin, Sam's smirk, and Dom's wide eyes. Eric was glued to his hand-held--although he could have been studying her through the security camera feed, for all she knew.

"That's wonderful. You may return the dress to wardrobe. Your clothes are in your locker."

Kensi mouthed a thank you to Hetty and walked barefoot to the locker room with as much dignity as she could muster.

Not just the Walk of Shame, but the Walk of Shame in front of the entire team. Just _great._

She unzipped her dress and stuffed it into her locker. As promised, a more appropriate outfit was neatly folded on the shelf. _How does Hetty _do_ that? _Kensi jammed the top over her head and picked up the slacks. _At least she had my back, which is more than I can say for--_

"Miss Blye, I have only one question for you."

Kensi recovered from the classic Hetty ambush and finished fastening her waistband. She cleared her throat, "Yes?"

The smile on the smaller woman's face reminded Kenzi that Hetty had been a raving beauty--a _popular_ raving beauty--in her day. "Was he worth it?"

Kensi blew out a breath. Maybe the Operations Manager wasn't _that_ psychic. "Maybe."

Hetty nodded. "Maybe is a good start," she said. "Next time, double check his alarm. Better yet, carry an extra in your bag. I always do." She walked away, leaving Kensi staring after her.

"TMI," she said, shaking her head. "Way TMI." She slipped on the waiting pair of sandals and checked her reflection in the mirror--Hetty was scary, but she had excellent taste.

Now, all Kensi had to do was brave the walk back to the common table and whatever crap the guys would dish out. She could stay in the locker room until she was needed or get some paperwork done in one of the interrogation rooms . . . but that would be hiding. And Kensi Blye never hid from anything--unless _she_ was the one doing the surveillance.

She closed her locker, squared her shoulders, and heard Hetty's voice. "Miss Blye, please don't keep Director Vance waiting!"

"Oh, thank God," she said, and hightailed it for ops.

She was on guard during the briefing, especailly after Vance disconnected, but no one said a word that wasn't about the case. She finally relaxed and waited for her assignment. " . . .Eric, call up everything you can on the security company. Kensi, you're here with Eric. That's it, let's go."

"Cooped up inside again," said Kensi, wanting to get out and do something active to make up for this morning. "No offense, Eric."

"None taken." He smiled at her. "I need some coffee." He levered himself out of his chair. "You want?"

"No, but thanks."

"No problem. Oh," he added as he passed, "if you want to take a nap, I'll cover for you. I know how cranky you get when you've pulled an all-nighter."

"You have no _idea_, Eric," she said, swatting at him as he ducked and ran.

"I'll trade you for Sam, if you put the dress back on," said Callen over his shoulder as he sauntered out.

"I'll ask Hetty to add it to your wardrobe," she said, making a face at his back. "It's black."

"Thanks, but I can't run in the shoes," he called back.

"Hey, Kensi?" Nate stuck his head around the doorframe. "I'll be in my office," he said in his usual deadpan, "if you'd like to discuss your decision-making skills and reckless life choices." He disappeared before she could say anything.

Dom opened his mouth, caught her glare, visibly swallowed, and scooted.

She turned on the only member of the team still in the room. "Well," she said, hands on her hips, "you have anything to say?"

"No, ma'am," said Sam, grinning. He propped himself against the table. "Not in the mood you're in."

She walked up to him and poked a finger at his broad chest. "My mood? Is all your fault." She lowered her voice to an angry whisper. "How _could_ you turn off that alarm? Did you _want _to humiliate me? Do you know what's it's like running the gauntlet through this crowd in a freaking _little black dress_?"

He held up his hands. "I didn't turn it off," he said. "It fell off the nightstand, remember? It probably broke. Same as the lamp," he added, chuckling.

"Then why didn't you _wake_ me _up_?" The last three words were punctuated by jabs.

"I got up early to go to the gym and came straight here after," he said. "You looked so peaceful when I left, I didn't have the heart to wake you." He reached out a large hand and brushed back her curls, tracing her ear with his thumb. "'Sides, you'd had such a rough night—" He warded her off, laughing. "Hey," He grabbed her hands and pulled her against him, mustering a serious look. "I'm sorry, Kensi. I really am. I didn't know the clock was broken."

She sighed. "Okay. But next time, _you_ get to walk in late carrying your shoes."

He smiled his special smile, the one that turned a rock hard SEAL into an irresistiby playful man. "I promise." He lowered his mouth to hers.

She met him halfway and sank into his scent, his strength, his gentleness. "Hmmm," she said, when she could. "I told Hetty you might be worth it. Not by name."

He nodded. "Thank you," he said. "I think. What?" he asked as she frowned.

"I just realized that I never had second date syndrome with you."

"Maybe because we've never been on an actual date?" He put his forehead to hers. "Besides, you didn't have to put on an act to impress me." His eyes crinkled. "I know the real you, Kensi--the second date you. And I like you."

"I like you, too." Maybe more, maybe soon, but _like_ worked for now. She stroked the side of his smiling face, pinched his cheek and moved to sit next to him with enough distance so she wouldn't be tempted to lean against him. It was becoming a habit, leaning on Sam. "I thought for sure everyone would figure it out the minute I came through that door. They're all trained investigators--sharp _and_ nosy."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Nah. We covered okay. I don't think anyone suspects."

"Maybe . . . but Hetty—Hetty!"

The Operations Manager nodded at Kensi and turned to Sam. "Mr. Hanna, I have something for you." She handed him a small black item with a cord. "A word to the wise—a gentleman always keeps a spare in case of guests." She walked away, leaving Sam and Kenzi staring in horror at the thing in Sam's palm.

"What's that?" asked Eric, coffee cup in hand.

Kensi and Sam bolted upright. "Nothing," they said at the same time. "Just one of Hetti's little surprises," added Sam. "I'll just put it in my lock—"

"Hey, Sam! What's the hold up?" Callen hollered from the staircase. "I'm not getting any younger, here! And Dom _is_!"

"I'll take care of it for you," said Kensi, holding out her hand.

"Okay. Thanks." Sam tossed it to her and made for the door at speed. She couldn't help watching--for a big man, he moved like . . .

"What is that?" Eric glanced over. "A digital clock?"

She gave it a careful once over and shrugged. "That's what it looks like."

Eric squinted though his glasses. "Then why'd she give it to him instead of you?"

"Very funny." She shrugged again. "You know Hetty."

"Ohhh, yeah." Eric settled in his usual seat and started tapping.

"I'll, uh, just put this in Sam's locker. Maybe get some of that coffee."

"Right." Eric didn't look up as Kensi strode out, clock clutched in her hand. "Yeah, I know Hetty," he said to himself, bringing up the company's financials. "But Hetty knows _you_." His grin widened. "And it looks like Nate owes me fifty."


End file.
